


The Great Divide Chapter 14 - I Will Not Bow

by Antigravity_Carnivore



Series: The Great Divide [14]
Category: Breaking Benjamin (Band), STARSET (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Future, Alternate Universe - Music, Alternate Universe - Rock Band, Alternate Universe - Science Fiction, Angst, Angst and Feels, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, F.E.C., Future Fic, Gay, Gay Male Character, Heavy Angst, Inspired by Music, M/M, Male Homosexuality, Music, Science Fiction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-11
Updated: 2017-09-11
Packaged: 2018-12-26 13:03:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,734
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12059535
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Antigravity_Carnivore/pseuds/Antigravity_Carnivore
Summary: Deep within the F.E.C. facility the Shallow Bay members try desperately to save Dustin, Ben and Lizzie, but are met with shocking new relevations and the emerging presence of the insane Burnley.





	The Great Divide Chapter 14 - I Will Not Bow

The Great Divide Chapter 14- I Will Not Bow  
My cheek hit the cold concrete floor, sending a chill down my spine that instantly cooled and soothed my feverish flesh. I closed my eyes for a moment, trying to shut out the blaring red light that filled the corridor with its annoying brightness and seared into my head without mercy. I knew that I had to keep moving forward, I knew I couldn’t stop looking, I had to find them, but my body was refusing to listen to me. Broken, beaten and bloody, I managed to stumble out and down the hallway, and put some distance between myself and Burnley, but the adrenaline was quickly wearing off, leaving me in a state of such extreme agony that the thought of laying down and dying was actually a pleasant one. I couldn’t give in though, my friends were here, trapped in some prison cell and I knew that I had to find them, even if it took the last breath of life right out of me, I wouldn’t stop.

I slowly opened my eyes, trying as best as I could to bring them into focus again. Whatever drug that Burnley had injected me with was working quickly, fueled by the rush of panic and fear that I was going through. Resting the palms of my hands against the floor, I dully noticed the trickle of blood that ran down from my arms as I pushed myself back up and into a sitting position. The thin white sheet I had wrapped around my body loosely fell away as I struggled to my feet, and for a moment, I stood there in the cold and empty corridor, naked, alone and afraid. I thought about all the things that had happened to bring me here, all the mistakes I made, and each decision that fate forced on me. I was tired and wanted to go home. There were so many things that I wanted to say to each of them; unfinished conversations swirled about in my drug riddled brain, making me feel sick with the knowledge that there was a really distinct possibility that I might never get to see any of them ever again.

I had to try. There were people counting on me to do the right thing. Never in my entire life had I been so sure of what I had to do. I couldn’t let them down. Not now…not after what I had just done. Propping myself up against the wall, I turned around slightly to look at the hall behind me. Locked doors lined the corridor, each one sealed up tight, keeping the secrets within hidden from view. All except for one, the one I had exited from. The electronic lock on the door flashed on and off with a soothing green color, unlocked. An involuntary shudder went down my spine, and I quickly turned back around. I had to keep moving, and as quickly as possible, put distance between myself and that room. I was sick with the memory of what had just happened, but I forced it down and grabbed hold of the sheet, wrapping it around me once again. There was an eerie silence that descended down on the corridor; that made me shiver. In a facility that was one of the main F.E.C. bases, there were no roaming Carnivore patrols, no random scientists, and no one at all, and it didn’t sit well with me. Where the hell was everyone? When Brock and I were brought in, these halls and rooms were lined with people, and now there was nothing. Burnley mentioned the Eden Project, but didn’t elaborate. Whatever it was, I knew that it couldn’t be good, and I had to get it together and get myself and the others out of here as fast as I could. I knew that my body was severely damaged, and there was a chance that I had major internal injuries, but I refused to let it stop me. I had to find Benjamin, Brock and Thomas. I could never leave them behind.

I made it a few feet when the trembling started. I couldn’t control it. All at once my entire body started shaking and I threw myself against the wall for support. Holding my hands out in front of me, I watched in fascination as they shook violently, my fingers arching and twisting in contorted, dis-formed shapes, totally unnatural and sickening. Something bad was happening to me. I reached up, forcing my fingers to cooperate and touch the tender spot in my neck where the syringe had been plunged deep into my skin. The veins underneath the skin were swollen and puffy, very tender and hot to the touch. I could almost swear that I could feel that drug pumping through my body, a dull liquid amber flowing through my veins, slowly eating away and devouring the red blood cells at a ravenous pace. My chest started to hurt, and each breath that I took shot a dagger of pain right through my heart. Struggling to catch my breath, I leaned my head against the wall, and let out a cry of despair. I couldn’t let this happen! I had to keep moving. What was happening to me? I needed Benjamin, I needed Brock. Where were they? Had I fucked things up with them so badly that I could never have either of them back? I wanted to close my eyes and feel those strong, supportive arms around me, and a soft voice whispering in my ear telling me that everything was going to be okay. Benjamin, Brock… a tear ran down my cheek. I had betrayed him. Burnley was right; I would never have to make a choice again, because he would never forgive me for what I had done.

I turned my eyes upward to the lights overhead, letting the tears stream down my cheeks, wishing that I could be outside, underneath the night sky, letting the starlight wash over me. I wanted to feel cool night air on my skin, sand underneath my feet and the light splash of the salty ocean waves kiss my cheeks. I didn’t want it to end like this. There was so much I had yet to do, so many songs I had yet to sing, and life left to live. All the perfect moments were wrong, all the precious pieces were gone. I destroyed everything, and now all I could do was stand here and weep.

A sudden movement at the end of the hall caught my eye. Wiping the tears away with a bloodstained hand, I tried to focus as best as I could, and saw the form of a small child, skipping through the corridor singing. Dressed in black shorts with a black shirt, his eyes were hidden from me with a black cadet hat, which soft, brown locks of baby hair sprouted out from around the edges. He was hopping barefoot from one end of the hall and then back to the other, leaving macabre tiny bloody footprints behind him. Quietly, I whispered, “Burnley?” The boy looked up, smiling at me, and even from the distance between us, I could see the tell-tale flecks of amber in those gray-green eyes. I staggered forward, dragging my body along the wall, with the sheet unfurling out behind me like some sort of dress train. Paying me no attention, he kept hopping and singing as I drew near to him.  
causse I am my ennnemy  
the wattter's up to the knee  
never wants nothin' from you  
yes I doo, yes I doo. . .  
As I approached him, he stopped singing and stood still, keeping his eyes on me. I knew that this couldn’t possibly be real, I had to be hallucinating. I reached out, my fingers stretching to touch his little shoulder to feel whether he was really here or not. He kept staring at me with those innocent eyes. Just as my fingers would touch the soft material of his shirt, he turned and ran off down to the next corridor, laughing and giggling. Upon reaching the end of the hall, with his back to the darkness, he looked at me and gestured toward me. “Unkle Dustin, come play with me.”

I began to feel incredibly light headed. The fever, shock and blood loss was starting to catch up with me. I knew I was going to black out again. Gripping the wall for support, I shook my head, trying to make him go away. “No, this isn’t real.” Burnley paid no attention to me, and started skipping back and forth again, singing the same song over and over. The images in front of me begin to distort and warp, making me feel like I was drowning underwater.

“Come on come on come on!” he called to me from down the hall. I knew I had no choice, I had to follow him, but my strength was rapidly fading. Gripping my sheet, I lowered my head down to avoid seeing any more of the corridor spin in an attempt to try to gain some focus and clarity as I walked. My eyes focused on those little bloody footprints leading me down the hall to him. With each step I took, I felt like I was slipping closer and closer to unconsciousness. The little boy stopped his skipping as I finally approached him, and I took a moment to wipe the beads of sweat off my forehead. My skin felt like it was on fire, and the wounds I had suffered were now throbbing painfully, the bleeding refusing to stop. Every bone in my body hurt, and I felt as though I had been ripped apart from the inside. I came to a halt a few inches away from him, my breathing ragged as the last remnants of my strength left me and I dropped down to my knees in front of him. I reached up for him, and he fixed his eyes on me and took a few steps slowly backwards into the darkness.

“No… No.. Don’t go.” I begged, my voice was barely a whisper. It was too late, he was gone. I hit the ground with a thump, balling the sheet up around my body and clutching it tightly against my chest. I thought of Benjamin, how I would never get to see him again, and tell him that I loved him. Fate had a way of pulling us apart time and time again, but deep inside I knew that no matter what happened, I would always find my way back to him. I fell in love with him the moment he walked into my dressing room and looked at me with those piercing eyes. He freed me from the prison I had locked myself in, and helped me to find the person who I was truly meant to be, not some awkward, shell of a man that I pretended to be. That’s how Benjamin was. He knew how to fix people, but the problem was that he didn’t know how to fix himself. I wanted to be the person to do that. I would of given anything for him to feel the exact same way that he made me feel.

I thought of Brock. Sweet, innocent goofy Brock. My best friend for so many years, he had been at my side, a constant companion through both good and bad times. I knew that I could always count on him to back me up when things got bad. He had a certain way about him that you just couldn’t help but to fall in love with. He came from a large family that taught him that the most important things in life are the ones that you can’t see. Kindness, compassion, and devotion were a few of them, and he would always shower me with them, hardly ever a hateful word would leave his lips. We basically grew up together, shoulder to shoulder, learning about the world, but where I let it suck me in and dry me up, he faced it all with a smile and a funny joke. As good as he was, he had one major fault, and that was loving me. If there was such a thing as a pure, innocent love, then this is what he had given to me. There were times when I would often sit outside of the beach house and think about Ben, losing myself in the ocean for hours, thinking about how much I missed him, and Brock would bring me out a hot coffee and blanket. He never said a word to me, but left me alone with my thoughts, and at night when I came in, he would pull me into his arms, holding and kissing me until the pain subsided.

I lay on my side, my eyes barely open, counting each rise and fall of my chest as my breathing became shallow, wondering if the next one would be my last. This is what I wanted now. I wanted him to come and take me. There was nothing left at all. I closed my eyes and listened to the silence. It was soft and welcoming, and descended on me more gentle than a feather.

I heard the sound of boots hitting the floor before I saw them. They echoed in the narrow corridor with a resounding loudness that split my head and shattered my ears. My body started to tremble and shake; he found me. I shoved my hands out and onto the floor, and forced myself up , I wanted to face him head on. I would not bow before him. I had been through too much to lay down and die at his hand. Even if it took all I had, I wanted to gaze into those amber flecked eyes one last time before he took away my life. As I struggled to get my dizzy head up, I could hear the footsteps coming closer and closer, practically right on top of me within seconds. My spine arched and my shoulders refused to hold me up, I couldn’t do it. I fell back down to the cold, unforgiving floor just as he came to stand over top of me. I waited patiently for his cold fingers to grasp my neck and pull me up to my feet, or perhaps the crushing power of his foot as it stomped down on my back and severed my spine, but nothing happened. He stood over me, unmoving. I opened my mouth to say something, but only a trickle of blood flowed freely over my parched lips, gagging me and sending my body into wracking spasms of pain. The drug he had injected me with was too powerful, I couldn’t fight it, it was eating away at me from the inside out, devouring my internal organs and causing agonizing tremors, each one more painful than the last.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw his shadowy shape tilt his head, peering down at me like I was some sort of bug under glass, waiting to be picked apart and dissected. To my surprise, he knelt down beside me and slipped a gloved hand along side my neck. Thank god, he was going to snap it. It would be quick and painless. My time on Prox and Earth had finally come to an end. Waiting for the sound of breaking bones, I felt those gloved fingers press into my flesh, as if feeling for a pulse. I moved my head slightly and he pulled away, pausing for a moment to run his fingers through my hair. Even in my weakened state, I couldn’t help but to cringe. He leaned forward and took hold of my arms, and pulled me slightly up, as my head lulled forward and my eyes could only see the lines on the floor. A wave of agony overcame me as he attempted to move my body, and this time, I was unable to fight it. It hit me full force, sending my body into a fit of seizures that I could not control, the motions violent and awkward enough to send me pitching back down to the floor. My chest closed up, my breathing slowed. I gasped and clutched at my throat, but I couldn’t get any air through. The last thing I saw was the black clad figure looming over me once again and speak one word. “Bates.”

Brock gripped his laptop tightly, and moved in front of Ben, whispering quietly. “Cover her face, quickly; we can’t let him see her.”

Benjamin remained motionless for a moment, clutching the helmet and scarf tightly in his hand. “Lizzie? How the hell did this happen? Brock, explain to me how the fuck she became a Carnivore!”

Shaking his head, Brock glanced down to a countdown timer on his laptop, and tried to keep his voice down as low as possible. “It’s a long story and I don’t think we have time for it. The Messengers are all gone now, we are all that is left. All the families, doctors, everyone, they are all dead.” He stopped for a moment, unsure of what information he wanted to reveal to Ben at this moment. He knew that Thomas was responsible for the murder of all the innocent people from the Messengers, but revealing this to Ben could possibly start something that they didn’t have time to deal with. Biting his lips and taking care, Brock decided to choose his words carefully. A lie by omission is still a lie, no matter what. It went against everything Brock new to look someone in the eyes and lie to them, but it had to be done. Shaking his head, he continued. “Bottom line is that she’s one of them now Ben. Thomas’s brain got fried from using the visor, we found a way to reset it, but he’s been having trouble coping with things. Lizzie had been in love with him all this time and never told him. With her dying breath, she confessed her feelings for him, and once he had found out, started suffering from remorse and grief, for letting her die…” Brock hesitated. If he was going to tell Ben everything, now was his chance. “..and a whole bunch of other things, and now all his emotions are heightened and he can’t deal with certain situations and tends to overreact. It’s not him; it’s the residual effects of the visor that malfunctioned. I am not sure if we will be able to trust him 100%.”

Tearing his gaze off Lizzie, Ben looked to Brock giving him a stern look. Brock couldn’t tell if Ben was shocked by the news that Lizzie had been in love with Thomas, or irritated by Brock’s lack of sympathy for him. Ben lowered his voice and spoke quietly. “You don’t have to explain that to me.”

Falling silent for a moment, a wave of regret washed over Brock and he wished he could take his words back; he had forgotten for a moment that Ben also had been a victim to the visor. The memory of the days following Ben’s recovery flooded into his mind, static computer images recorded off a security cam, of seeing Ben in the recovery room, after being blinded, calling for Dustin, asking about Dustin, begging to see him. He was so desperate to find him that the doctors treating him had to physically restrain him for the first few days until it passed. Brock had never seen Ben so agitated and upset before; on several occasions, he had to shut the video feed off, because he couldn’t stand to see this strong man being brought down to his knees. Then the night where Ben and Dustin were finally reunited and they spent hours together, holding one another each others arms, under a projected map of the heavens, he watched it all sitting in silence. It was on this night, after waiting for so many that he had seen the intense amount of love that two men had for each other, and it shattered his heart. These were memories he wish could slip away just like Ben’s had. Brock stumbled over his words. “Yeah, that’s right. I have to tell you that I lied and falsified reports about Thomas’s mental stability while we were back in the Shallow Bay, because we needed him for this mission.” He glanced to Lizzie, to her glassy blue eyes that reflected nothing but darkness. “He’s gone through a lot so far and this might be the final thing that breaks him. Ben, please listen to me, it is important that we have to keep this secret, for now at least.”

Shaking his head, Ben pointed a finger at Brock. “This isn’t a good idea. Keeping this from him is only going to make things worse. We have time to deal with it now, I know Thomas. He’s a soldier; he’s one of MY soldiers. I have known him longer than you and I know what he’s quite capable of.”

Brock scoffed. “Obviously you didn’t know EXACTLY what he was capable of, because if you did, we wouldn’t be here.”

Irritated by the tone in Brock’s voice and his confrontational words, Ben’s finger involuntary moved on the trigger of the gun, but he kept the weapon at his side, as a unexpected wave of hatred suddenly ran through him. Brock’s casual comment released something lurking in the back of his head; not memories, but feelings of hatred and perhaps jealousy for unknown reasons. “I don’t know why you’re judging him so harshly Brock, he’s made mistakes—Hell we all have. I am not going to turn my back on him and walk away, like everyone else has. Nor am I going to be keeping secrets from him. We tell him about this now and get it over with.” Stepping away from Brock, Ben threw the helmet and scarf down onto the floor and started to walk past him, when he was stopped by Brock’s hand on his arm. Ben turned very slowly, his gray-green eyes locking onto Brock and questioning him without a word.

“Ben, listen to me.” Brock pointed to Lizzie. “THIS… THIS is going to destroy him. Please, I am begging you, just let it go for now, at least until we find Dustin.” Moments of silence passed between the two men, seconds ticking away that felt like hours before Ben shrugged and threw Brock’s hand off of him. As Ben walked forward out into the hallway to fetch Thomas, Brock called after him. “He is in love with her too.” Dropping his voice, he whispered. “Don’t do this to him.”

Benjamin snarled and turned around and grabbed Brock by the front of his shirt, causing him to fall off balance and drop the lap top. The computer crashed down to the floor with the loud sound of cracking plastic and glass. Thomas made his way in from the hall, pushing past the Carnivore Lizzie and stood with her at his back, staring slack jawed at the broken device on the floor. His eyes widened as he stared at Ben and Brock, completely dumbfounded. The computer screen flashed a few times, emitting a series of intense sparks and then faded into darkness at their feet. Lizzie immediately grabbed her head and let out an overpowering shriek, that emanated from deep within her, filled with intense anguish. Covering their ears, Ben and Brock staggered back away from her to the far wall of the room, as Thomas whirled around pulled his gun out from the holster at his side and aimed at her. “NO!” Ben shouted and leaped forward, as a confused Thomas looked on in shock, seeing Lizzie for the first time. His grip on the weapon wavered, his fingers loosened on the trigger and sensing her moment, Lizzie lunged at him, her fingers formed into viscous sharp razor like claws, directed toward his neck. Benjamin managed at the last moment to get between then, using one arm to push Thomas backwards, where he fell down with a loud thump. Lizzie pulled her arm back and lashed out, sending her claws high into the air where they collided with Ben’s face, slicing it open and sending a wave of blood splashing forward, momentarily blinding him.

Brock scrambled to his feet, grabbing for the laptop, in a desperate hope that he could regain control of her, but the moment his fingertips touched the case, Lizzie bent down and grabbed it herself, gripping it tightly and smashing it against the side of his head, and then tossed it aside as he fell to the side in a haze of pain. Thomas pulled himself back up to his feet, grabbing the gun off the floor and looking at Brock desperately. “THIS IS LIZZIE, BROCK WHAT THE HELL AM I SUPPOSED TO DO?”

Holding the side of his head which had now started to swell with a angry red welt, Brock tried to steady himself. “She’s not like a normal Carnivore. If you destroy her body, all the information contained in her head will transfer into another host that is waiting and she will come back for us. If that happens, then the little bit of humanity she has left in that vessel will be wiped away the moment it uploads into another body. If you kill her Thomas, you will kill the real Lizzie and lose all chance of getting her back.”

Flicking the blood off his cheek, where she had gouged three large gashes, Ben glared at Thomas, raising his gun and aiming at Lizzie’s head. His eyes were stone cold and his expression serious as he stared him down. “For fuck sake, Thomas if you don’t do something, she’s going to rip us all apart in a few minutes when she fully realizes that we’re the enemy. I won’t let that happen. Right now she’s in self-defense mode. So either you try to get through to her or I will end this. Ben gripped his gun tightly and lowered his finger down over the trigger waiting impatiently for Thomas to make his move.

“What do I do?” He asked again, trying his best to avoid looking into those hazy, clouded blue eyes peering out from underneath the cowl that still remained wrapped around her. “This isn’t Lizzie; I don’t know what this is.”

Pulling himself to his feet, Brock picked up the broken computer and held onto the useless bit of metal protectively. “It is Lizzie. Can’t you see that? They must have found her body back in the Messengers base and converted her into a Carnivore to get information out of her, which means that she’s still in there, the girl that told you that she loved you with her dying breath. The programming isn’t completely fail proof; you know this for a fact. Talk to her, reach out to her, and make her see who you are. This is the only chance we will have. If you don’t succeed then we’re going to be face to face with a killing machine.”

“No we won’t.” Ben’s low baritone voice echoed in the small room. Everyone knew exactly what he meant without asking. His eyes were proof of his intentions.

Thomas tore his gaze off Lizzie for a moment and looked over to Benjamin who still held his weapon up, ready to fire at a moment’s notice. Thomas whispered… “Ben?” He was waiting for direction from the man that he had fought so hard to get back. Everything he had done, every single action that had brought him here was because of his love for Benjamin, and now he had him, completely, but was on the verge of losing him once again. Thomas knew that the words he would have to speak out loud would come from the heart, for good or bad, whatever his actions were in the next few moments would surely bring him closer to his fate. Lizzie was a girl from Prox, an ordinary person who he knew almost nothing about, except for the fact that she held a strange fascination for him. She wasn’t some strong type A personality who could come into the room and pull all the attention to her, she wasn’t versed in military or technical skills, nor was she going to be the person who ended the war on Prox. Lizzie was simply Lizzie. A sweet, charming ward nurse from the Messengers, set free by Brock from the F.E.C. and rescued by Thomas himself. There was something about her that drew him to her, a magnetic force that would cause him to go out of his way on daily activities just to see her. Telling her stories about the stars in the night sky always caused her face to light up, and she hung on every single word that he said. Being near her made Thomas feel things that he had never felt before, and it frightened him. She wasn’t like Ben at all, who made it so easy for Thomas to just let himself go and fall completely into a submissive, completely consuming love.

“This is your choice.” Ben said, snapping Thomas out of his thoughts.

Lizzie suddenly began to twitch slightly, and her eyes darted back and forth, moving from man to man in the room. “She’s coming back online to the F.E.C. servers, if you’re going to do something; you have to do it now.” Brock said, pleading with Thomas.

Taking a few steps forward, Thomas slowly approached Lizzie, and her gaze shifted and focused on him. She was his single target now. Dropping his weapon, he held his hands up, knowing that it was a futile gesture, she wouldn’t care if he was armed or not, if her program told her to kill, she would. Thomas took a deep breath and spoke softly to her. “Lizzie, I know that you’re in there somewhere, and I need you to fight whatever it is that is keeping you from breaking out of that monstrous shell.” Blinking a few times, Lizzie’s lips curved into what looked like a snarl as she stared him down. “Listen to me, this isn’t you. The F.E.C. trapped you in that thing, to use you against us. You are one of us! Brock risked his life to set you free, and watched over you when you came to us. Do you remember? You aren’t a killer.” Reaching out, he took hold of her hands and held them in his own, ignoring the fact that there were tiny droplets of Ben’s blood smearing on his hands from her extended claw uniform gloves. “These hands aren’t meant for hurting people, they are meant for helping them. Think about all the lives you have saved with these hands. They owe their lives to you.”

Twisting her fingers, Lizzie grabbed hold of Thomas’s hands and held them tightly, arching her claws so that they were wrapped around his wrists. The sneer on her face upturned into a vicious smile as she started to apply pressure and Thomas winced, he could feel the bones in his hands start to shift and move. Benjamin cocked his gun. “That’s enough. It’s not working. Step aside Thomas.” He commanded.

“No!” Brock shouted. “Let him keep trying there is still time! Thomas you have to do better than that. You have to reach her on an emotional level. Tell her how you really feel, don’t be afraid. Don't hold back!”

Fighting back the crushing pain in his hands, Thomas looked to Lizzie once again. “Lizzie. You do whatever it is that you need to do, and if that means that I will die by your hands, then so be it.” His voice dropped as he inhaled, taking in the breath that he needed to speak to her. “I deserve to die for what I did to you. I don't want you to put your arms around me and say it's all right, that you forgive me. I want you to be sure that you do. I just want to go back to when we had laughter, and the world was colored with the red and gold tinted Prox sky not black and white and gray. I am so sorry for hurting you. I could inflict all kinds of pain on myself, but it would not take back any I gave to you. I know how hard it must have been for you to live with the feelings you had for me and stay silent for so long. Such sorrow is not easily lived with. It is only endured, and I’ve given your short lifetime so much to suffer with.” Looking up at her, Thomas noticed a tear forming in the corner of her eye, and the grip on his hands began to loosen a bit. He was getting through to her.

Noticing the change, Brock whispered to Thomas. “It’s working, just a little more and you have her, Thomas. Don’t stop.” Brock wasn't the only one who noticed.

His voice quivering, he replied. “I don’t know what to say.”

Benjamin lowered his weapon and turned his attention to Thomas. “Yes you do.”

Slipping his hands out of hers, Thomas wiped at his eyes with the sleeves of his uniform, completely overcome with emotion. He glanced over to Ben once again, trying to read him, but it was useless. He stood motionless, unmoving and completely composed. Perhaps his shoulders dropped a fraction of an inch, or his skin paled a shade whiter, but it was so subtle that Thomas couldn’t even notice it. Slowly he approached Lizzie, reaching up to push away a piece of hair away from her face and leaned in close to her, his lips resting on the side of her cheek as he whispered unheard words with his soft breath.

Lizzie’s eyes blinked for a moment as the light of life filled them once again, and her gaze shifted to him. “Thomas?” she asked, slightly confused.

“Yes Lizzie, it’s me. I’m here. You are going to be fine. I won’t let anyone ever hurt you again, I promise.” Thomas spoke gently to her, as he ran his fingers through her hair. A look of relief and happiness washed over her face for a moment, before she collapsed and he caught her in his arms. Brock was immediately on his feet, moving to help Thomas ease her unconscious body down onto the floor. Thomas glanced at him worried. “What’s going on? Is she?”

Placing his fingers alongside of her neck, Brock waited a few seconds, counting the beats of her heart underneath the tips of his fingers and smiled. “She’s going to be fine, probably just passed out due to the stress from severing the connection to the F.E.C. servers.” He glanced up to Thomas. “You got her back.”

Clutching her tightly, he looked down at the girl in his arms, sleeping peacefully. “I did, didn’t I? She’s the first person brought back from the Carnivore conversion process, Brock do you know what that means?!? It means that there may be a way to help others, bring back the ones that we lost! Imagine if we can turn them all against their masters? Finally we will have a upper hand on the F.E.C.!”

Brock scowled at Thomas. “I wouldn’t jump to any conclusions yet. She was a very recent conversion, which means her memories hadn’t fully dissipated. I highly doubt that the others can be saved, Thomas. She is the exception to the rule. Don’t get your hopes up. We don’t even know what mental state she will be in once she wakes up. Let’s just take this one step at a time, alright?”

Sighing, Thomas frowned at Brock. “I suppose you’re right.”

Standing up, Brock gave Thomas a comforting pat on the shoulder. “It will be okay, man.” A moment of temporary peace passed between the two men, there were no accusations or finger pointing; only a vague understanding, which was clearly enough for Brock to accept. He could never fully comprehend how Thomas could put the lives of hundreds of people in danger over one single person; and he probably never would, but it was a fact that Brock would have to accept. Thomas had his qualities, both good and bad, and hopefully now with Lizzie back, she would be able to keep his head above water and make him understand right from wrong. All they needed was time. Glancing around, Brock located his laptop once again and picked up the two halves of it shaking his head in resignation. “It looks like we have a causality after all. Damn, we’re pretty screwed now.”

“There’s no way it can be repaired?” Thomas asked, already knowing the answer.

Shaking his head, Brock tossed the useless device in the corner in frustration. “Nope, and without the program to hack into the key codes for the doors, we’re pretty much stuck in here.” He looked down at Lizzie whose breathing was now normal and steady as she lay in Thomas’s arms. “We won’t be able to find Dustin now without her either.” He rubbed his hands over his face. “I don’t know what to do, I think that it would be best that…” Brock stopped talking, looking around frantically. Without another word, he sprinted towards the door and looked out, down the corridor. “Son of a bitch!”

Thomas looked at him curiously. “What’s wrong, Brock?” he asked.

Brock re-entered the room, and punched the side of the door in frustration. “Where did Benjamin go?”

A look of panic washed over Thomas's face. Gently, he laid Lizzie down onto the floor and joined Brock at the door. “He was right here. I saw him right before Lizzie passed out. He couldn’t have gone far, but why would he just leave like that?”

Walking by Thomas, Brock shot him a astonished look. “You’re kidding me, right?” he asked.

“Honestly, I don’t know.” Thomas retraced Brock’s footsteps and went out to look down the hall himself, there was no sight of him.

Keeping his back turned toward him, Brock glanced down at Lizzie and spoke quietly. “Between the two of us, Thomas…I know it was you who altered the visor to remove Ben’s memories of Dustin. There is no use in denying it, the damage has already been done.”

Remaining near the door, Thomas's worried expression turned to one of shock. “I don’t see how you could think I am capable of that, I told you that I want to start over, become the leader that the Shallow Bay needs. Doing something like this wouldn’t be very ethical, now would it? And even if I did, what would calling me out accomplish? Absolutely nothing. It’s your word against mine Brock, and you might be a innocent and trustworthy person to others, but keep in mind that this is MY HOME. These are MY people, and you need to think carefully of where their loyalties would be, if you decided to bring this little fact to light.”

“I have no intention of calling you out on it.” Brock shrugged.

Thomas gave Brock a curious look. “Then why bring it up at all?”

Brock turned around to face Thomas. “I only want you to own up to what you did. Not to me, or to the Shallow Bay people, or even to Benjamin, but to yourself, because of your little tinkering with that device, you’ve basically killed Ben, and I want you to be very aware of this.”

“You’re insane. IF I did it, how could I wiping Ben’s memories cause any damage? You’re reaching for something that isn’t there Brock, and I wish you’d stop it because we are in danger here.”

Moving back across the room, Brock came to stand in front of Thomas. “You just don’t get it…You’ve completely removed Dustin and his life from Ben’s head. All that he has left are memories from his past life which no longer exists, and memories of YOU. You, being the one that he is utterly and passionately in love with and what did you just do? Think about it! He told you the choice was up to you, and you made it. You just broke the heart of the only man who can get us out of here. You destroyed him when you whispered into her ear.”

Thomas brought his hand up to his head, and Lizzie started to stir slightly. “Oh my god. I didn’t think that he would….I didn’t know what he was asking…I thought that if I….I can’t…”

Brock waved his hand in the air and walked over to Lizzie, kneeling down by her side, and holding onto her hand. “Stop, just stop, Thomas.”

Pacing back and forth in front of the door, Thomas watched as Brock gently attended to Lizzie who was starting to come around. He felt relieved that she was going to be okay, but at the same time, very remorseful that the choices that he had made, had put Benjamin in danger. Lizzie had put all her love and trust in Thomas and he let it all go to waste, now he had the chance to make things right, but at what cost? He was being torn in two. Suddenly, he stopped pacing and looked down at Brock and Lizzie as she started to open her eyes. “We have to leave here, now.”

Lizzie struggled to focus her eyes as she held onto Brock’s hand tightly and looked over to Thomas. Brock sent him a scowling look. “Just give her a few minutes, can’t you see that she’s clearly disorientated? What is your rush?” he asked, obviously annoyed.

Thomas’s face went pale white. “Ben. We have to find Ben, now.”

Brock slipped an arm under Lizzie’s back as she tried to sit up, holding her trembling hand up to her head. “Thomas?” she asked, her voice quivering and shaking.

Grabbing the weapons, and Brock’s messenger bag, Thomas walked over to Lizzie and helped, or rather pulled Lizzie to her feet. She staggered, nearly falling back over on her knees that were weak and didn’t quite support her, but Brock was at her side in an instant, catching her in his arms and holding her up. “Thomas, what the hell are you doing? Can’t you see that she’s not ready to move yet. The last thing her body remembers is getting her neck snapped by YOUR hands, and the nerves severed, it’s going to take a few minutes until she’s ready to be moved! Chill out, will you?” Brock scolded. “Ben’s more than capable of taking care of himself, calm down, we will find him.”

“No! We have to go find him now Brock. We have to find him before Burnley does!”

The Antigravity Carnivore slipped silently through empty halls, her mind filled with suspicion and worry about the lack of any guards on duty. The Eden Project had begun, and since the warning, there had been absolutely no movement in the corridors at all. Glancing at her map, she paused to look into a few labs, offices, and private quarters on her way through the facility, but all were equally as empty. This day was not going as she had initially planned. After months of research, she had evidence from an unknown source that the source code she had written for the Ocular devices was being stored here in this base. Never being one to blindly follow any anonymous source, Selene did tried her best to do research on the location, but after running into one dead end after another, she gave up and resigned herself to penetrating the base to go have a look for herself. There was something different from this place, rather than any of the other F.E.C. installations she had infiltrated. It had housed an unusually large amount of Type-0 Carnivores, which were the ones that basically had fried a few circuits and were nothing more than killing machines, sitting around waiting to be released on some poor bastards who the F.E.C. felt threatened by. All the personnel records for the base were classified, under multiple firewalls and proxy servers that she couldn’t seem to get through, no matter how hard she tried. It was almost as if this base was an impenetrable shell, not meant for keeping things out, but rather for keeping things in. Completely self-contained, even the walls themselves, held secrets that could withstand almost any sort of destructive blast, and this frightened her even more.

Running into her son had made things worse. She knew him the moment that she laid eyes on him. The F.E.C. had taken everything away from her that meant something in her life, her research, her husband and her only child. Years ago Thomas had been taken away from her and used as incentive for her to continue the research into the Ocular devices, they had promised that once her research was complete, he would be returned to her and they would both be set free. The last time she had seen him in the flesh was when he was only a few years old, when she sneaked into the nursery after hours and read to him from her favorite Alice and Wonderland book. He loved that story more than any other one she would bring him, and when she asked why he liked it so much, he told her it was because that one day, he wanted to slip into the mirror and disappear so that the thing with the claws could never find him.

After the initial visors had been completed, Selene demanded that her son be released to her. Not surprising, they refused and demanded that minor changes be made to the devices. She had no choice but to cooperate once again. Upon seeing the proposed changes to her work, Selene refused. She stood in front of the head of research and pleaded with him to let her and her son go, offering up every bit of original coding that she had written in return for their freedom. Once again, she was denied and her son threatened. Defeated, she returned to her quarters and cried herself into a fit. After several hours, Selene somehow found the strength to pull herself out of bed and looked into the mirror. Her long curls were matted and tangled, framing her pale face like some sort of morbid corpse. She was no longer a wife and mother, but just another one of their mindless zombies, endlessly submitting themselves to their will over and over again. The F.E.C. was slowly killing her; she knew at that moment, she had to escape. Spending the next few days collecting data on the facility, Selene put a plan into action, logging into their systems as the Antigravity Carnivore and unleashing a temporary computer virus that completely shut down their computer systems for a short period of time. Gathering up provisions and gear for both herself and her son, she slipped through the halls during the mass confusion to reclaim her son in the nursery, only when she arrived, she found it completely empty. All the children’s beds were covered in a thin layer of dust, and obviously unused for a long period of time. They had moved all the children, and fooled everyone into believing that they were still there. Disheartened, Selene slowly made her way to the exit, knowing that she had a choice to make in only a few seconds… to return to the F.E.C. and do as they commanded, making the visors into a brainwashing device, hoping that she could bide her time until she could locate Thomas.. or… Turning her back on her own research, and running away, in hopes that she would somehow be able to find him in a alternate way.

The Ocular devices were meant as a healing tool but now they were being perverted, misused and abused. Late at night, she could hear screams down the hall of people down in the research labs and kept telling herself that it had nothing to do with her work, but deep inside, she knew what was going on. They couldn’t get the new bit of coding right without her. They needed her to make it work. They would keep torturing and punishing her until it was complete. People would suffer because of her invention.

The Antigravity Carnivore left the F.E.C. that day, and disappeared. Twenty years later her son, Thomas did the same thing, taking with him a group of individuals who had been awakened, and seen the true horrors that were being committed all in the name of science and progress. Now here he was, back in her life again, a grown man trying to bring down the corporation that she had rebelled against for so many years.

Glancing down for a moment at the tracking device, Selene frowned. He was still here. This worried her, she knew that after the Eden Project started, it would only be a short time before the base went on full lock down, sealing them all in without the possibility of escape. Realizing that the tip she had that the coding she was looking for had all been a lie, Selene intended on leaving as quickly as possible. The little information she did have about the base mostly centered on it’s ruthless commander, Burnley, and she did not want to force a confrontation with him. The man was a sadistic, insane lunatic that subjected those under him to excruciating punishment if they failed him, and if he treated his own men this way, what could be said about an intruder? 

Nearly reaching the exit that would take her back out to the unforgiving Prox desert, she rounded the corner and ran into a man laying on his side with a thin, bloody bed sheet wrapped around his body, having some sort of seizure in the middle of the hall. Her first instinct was to just keep going, walk away, this wasn’t her problem, but then she remembered her son saying that they had infiltrated the base to find their friend. Could this possibly be the man they were looking for? Slowly walking up to him, she bent down and ran her fingers through what was left of his shaved hair, exposing a fresh bar code tattoo on the side of his head. Selene frowned. This was the mark that they often gave to the individual that were being subjected to intense drug trials. The garbage that they injected into the patients systems would wreak havoc on the skin tissue and distorting the features so badly, the only way to identify different subjects is the tattoo. Grabbing hold of his wrist, she turned his arm over and let out a startled cry. There was a deep puncture wound on the inside of the elbow where there had been a IV inserted at one time and then forcibly removed. It looked like he had ripped it out himself. Seeing the torn flesh of the injection site isn’t what startled her though, it was seeing the frightening amber color of the drug pulsing through his skin just underneath the surface. Taking care, she rolled him over and onto his back as the sheet crumpled up around him, exposing more injection sites, along with several neat and perfectly sliced lacerations that looked like they had been created with a scalpel in various locations that were still oozing blood. He had been injected and sliced up like some sort of bizarre science experiment. Looking down the corridor he had come from, she could see the line of bloody foot and hand prints alongside the walls that led out of a closed door. Curiosity wanted her to go look in there, but fearing that this unconscious man could be one of Burnley’s helpless victims, she shoved that curiously away into a corner of her mind and locked it away.

Standing up, Selene pulled out a small hand held computer from her pocket and scanned the infected and puffed up bar code tattoo on the man’s skull, and raised an eyebrow. “Dustin Bates.” She whispered. She had never met the man before, but she knew ~of him. After she had abandoned the research for the Ocular devices, the F.E.C. was somehow miraculously able to splice together a new programming code that turned them into the brainwashing devices that they had wanted. Hacking into their system, the Antigravity Carnivore could only find one name attached to these files. “D.Bates” and what she assumed was the name of the program: “The Prox Transmissions”. The man laying on the floor in front of her was somehow the one responsible for finding the key to turning the visors into a offensive device. Her mind raced. How could this be the man that changed the programming? The F.E.C. had been using them for 20+ years, and yet this man was only in his 30’s. It was not possible.

The door at the end of the hallway suddenly slid open, and she immediately jumped. “Shit!” Grasping hold of one of his arms, she shook him harshly. “Bates, get up! Get up! Get up!” There was no response. She let out an annoyed huff. “For fuck’s sake if you can hear me get up, right now, help me get you out of here, if he finds us, we’re both dead, do you hear me? Get up, get up get up!” Still there was no response. “Fuck!” Bending down, she grabbed the unconscious man roughly and started dragging him backwards down the hall she had come from. He was heavy, but nothing that she couldn’t handle, just a bit awkward, but still with all her strength, she knew that she wouldn’t be able to carry him for very long before her strength gave out. Quickly pushing a few buttons on her wrist device, she brought up a small map and her eyes scanned the maze of halls, desperately looking for something in particular. A loud thud echoed far away and caught her attention, she didn’t know what it was, but she knew she had to move. Clutching Dustin tightly, she pulled him through a string of twists and turns, until she came to a door that was locked up with the usual electronic lock impeding her progress. She knew that she wouldn’t have time to deactivate it, without setting off any sort of warning that would send an alert through the network. She had to get this man to safety as soon as possible. Taking a breath, she forced herself to calm down and think. Pushing the curls of hair out of her eyes, she carefully sat Dustin down onto the floor, on top of his moist, blood soaked sheet and went to work on the keypad. The Antigravity Carnivore was an expert at numbers and puzzles, but it had been years since she had used the information on how to do it, being so hell bent on her own mission of revenge, she had almost forgotten that the skill existed at all. Her fingers lightly pressed the numbered keys on the keypad and instantly flew into life, typing set after set of four digit code as fast as she could. The numbers flew by inside of her head, as she made note of incorrect numbers and stored them away, opening up a whole realm of possibility for successful numbers.

As her finger stroked a random key, suddenly the keypad flashed green and the door unlatched. Smiling to herself, she grabbed Dustin and hauled him inside, then paused waiting for the door to close behind her, which she then locked. Breathing a thankful sigh of relief, Selene maneuvered Dustin so that he was laying on one of the recovery beds in the unused Infirmary. Taking a moment to catch her breath, she put her hands on her hips and looked around at all the still brand new equipment lining the walls.

“Well, thank goodness those sick fucks thought enough ahead to provide the best equipment.” She chuckled. The F.E.C. was notorious for torturing and killing their prisoners, as well as their own people at times. Sickness and injuries were not tolerated and were a sign of weakness, so the fully stocked infirmary was a jewel to find. After the visors had been completed and were able to fully restore the body back to it’s original state in the matter of a few hours, there really wasn’t need for proper medical treatments, and places like this would often just be used for storage. For once, Selene was grateful of the impractical planning on their part.

Wheeling over a IV stand she grabbed a bag of saline and quickly checked the contents, then pulled out a pre-packaged needle and tubing. Looking down at Dustin, she shook her head. “It's been a while since I've done this sweetie, so you're going to have to bear with me, we need to flush that drug out of your system as soon as possible or else it's going to end up killing you in a matter of minutes.” Selene grabbed hold of the sheet that Dustin's body had been wrapped in and pulled it down, letting it ball up around the middle of his body, exposing his torso. She could see the tell tale scars, pink and still healing, running down his chest that could only have been caused by a Carnivore on a previous occasion and frowned at the atrocity of the attack. It made her hate the F.E.C. More than ever. Grabbing hold of Dustin's wrist, she flicked her fingers a few times against the inside of his elbow, trying to find a vein, nothing. Moving on the other arm, she tried again but he had been pumped so full of the Eden drug that every one that she found was collapsing and useless. Cursing to herself, Selene looked down the length of Dustin's bruised and bloody body. Whatever he had been subjected to at the ends of his captor was brutal and violent, it was a shock that he was even alive at all. Her heart went out to him, knowing full well the level of depravity and cruelty that the F.E.C. was famous for and feeling terrible that she wasn't able to stop them from doing this to the man before her; that she might not ever be able to stop them.

Still holding the needle in her hand, Selene let out a sigh grabbed for Dustin's arm once again. She had to find a way to get the saline drip started, she did not want the F.E.C. to take one more life. Even if she began with saving this unknown person in front of her, she swore that her quest for vengeance against the F.E.C. For stealing and manipulating her Ocular devices was over. There was a bigger picture now; they had to be taken down in order to prevent this cruelty from happening over again. Applying pressure to his arm, Selene spoke softly, but very sternly to Dustin unconscious before her. “Come on Dustin, you've got to help me, don't let them take you. You've made it this far, don't give in now.” She flicked her fingers once again against the soft flesh of his arm and suddenly felt a very shallow vein appear. It wasn't the greatest, and may collapse the moment she inserted the needle, but it was a chance she was willing to take, if she didn't get the saline into his system to dilute the drug, there wouldn't be a patient in front of her, but a corpse instead. Closing her eyes for a moment and forcing her hand to steady, she gave him one last look and then shoved the needle into the vein. A tiny droplet of blood formed at the insertion site, and immediately the saline began to flow. It worked. The vein instantly started to plump up as the liquid dripped down the plastic tubing and started to flow through his arm and spread across his entire system.

“Alright Bates. We've conquered one mountain. Now let's see what else we're dealing with.” Selene reached down and pulled the sheet off his body and dropped it down to the floor. His skin was discolored from multiple bruises where it looked like he had been grabbed by overpowering, strong hands. There were strange, incision marks made with a fine scalpel that were in random locations over his torso which had been dripping with fresh blood as she dragged him down the hallway. She knew that there were other injuries, but she could not bring herself to examine him anymore. The atrocity and horror of what he had been subjected to was enough for the moment. He was stable, so all she had to do was wait and see if he could pull through in the next several moments or take a turn for the worse. 

Searching around the room, she managed to find a new clean sheet to cover him up with and a soft pillow to rest his head on. He needed some shred of decency if he woke up. Selene scoured the room for medical supplies, bandages, a suture kit and threw it all on a cart, wheeling it over to the side of his bed. Organizing everything neatly, she sat down on the edge of the bed with antiseptic soaked gauze pads and very slowly began to wipe away the dried blood. Very aware that time was of the essence, she forced her hand to be as gentle as possible, not wanting to rip open any of the wounds that had already sealed themselves shut. Her hand swirled around his chest, carefully circling each gash and wound with great care, and made her way down his tortured body. Pulling the sheet down and exposing his hips, she tilted her head and gazed that the odd shaped bruises that ran alongside of each of his hipbones. Sitting the cleansing cloth down for a moment, Selene reached out and placed her hand over the strange set of marks and let out a slight gasp. They were in the exact size and shape of someone's fingertips. Instantly, she knew what had happened to him, and she knew who did it too. Her heart ached for the poor soul in front of her who had to endure so much. Determined to stop the F.E.C. at all costs, she knew that her first real fight against them would be to save this man. Her fingers were still resting on Dustin's feverish flesh when suddenly he woke up, let out a startled cry and grabbed for her, trying desperately to push her away from him. In his weakened state, he was no match for her, and Selene fought back against him, pushing him back down onto the mattress and giving him a serious look. “Dustin, Dustin Bates! It's alright, you are safe now. Stop it, stop fighting me. I am trying to take care of you!” She shouted at him. “If you knock that IV line out, the drug in your system is going to eat away at the blood in your veins and you will be dead in a heartbeat, and I won't be able to replace it. So, just stop resisting me, accept the fact that I am trying to save your life and lay the fuck back down!”

Dustin gasped for breath, the wild swings from his arms and attempts to remove Selene from oppressing were obviously failing, he sank down into the soft sheets and pillow, pulling his hands up over his face and letting out a pained groan. His entire body screamed out in torment, and his head throbbed miserably with a pounding that threatened to split his skull wide open. Every single nerve felt like it was on fire, and he was burning up from the inside. Tears of agony rolled out from the corner of his eyes. Selene leaned forward and put a comforting hand on his arm, but he flinched at the light touch and she immediately drew away. She sat next to him in silence for several moments, hoping that she would not have to sedate him, when he suddenly whispered to her. “Where is Benjamin?”

The lights in the corridor had begun to flash off and on, as Ben hurried down the network of interlocking halls and passageways. The facility was going into shut down mode, and he knew that he had to get Brock, Lizzie and Thomas out of there was soon as he could. He was responsible for them. Lizzie wasn’t ready to travel yet, and Brock would wait until she regained her senses before moving her, so he knew that he had a bit of time before he would have to get back to the group, and by then, hopefully he would have found a way out of the base. He was worried about Thomas though, Ben knew it was wrong turning away and leaving him behind with the others in the cell, but time was of the essence and he had to move fast, there was no time for fighting and arguing. He had to keep them moving. 

As he kept walking, he thought about the look in Thomas’s eyes when he was confronting Lizzie and it gave him a empty, hollow feeling inside. Thomas meant so much to him; he had given that man something that no one else on Prox ever could have, and that was his love. He trusted Thomas as his own personal confidant and relied on him as he would no one else, but Thomas had taken that love and trust and turned it into a weapon to be used against him and betray him with it. It was obvious by the light in his eyes as he spoke to Lizzie that there was something more than friendship between the two of them, and it sickened Ben to think of it. Never again would Benjamin allow himself the luxury of getting close to someone ever again, love, and all aspects of it was nothing more than a weakness to him. His thoughts drifted for a moment back to the life he once had, where he could wake up in the morning and walk on the damp sand, feel his feet sink deep as he made his way down the shore line, listening to the waves crash on the beach. There was something alluring, mystifying, and calming about those waves of water churning violently out at sea. He longed to step out into those murky waters and let their soothing coolness wash over him, pulling him away from all the turmoil and troubled thoughts in his brain. He wanted to watch the daylight shine and slowly drift away as the waters consumed him.

Stopping for a moment, Ben felt his chest tighten up and his breathing become painful. He leaned against the wall, and rested his hands against the cold concrete, trying to stabilize himself as best he could. Lowering his head, he forced himself to take another breath, then another and another. There was a weariness creeping into his bones that reminded him of the days and nights from before when he was in such immense agony that he just wanted to die. Bed ridden and sickly, he spent so many days alone, wishing that there was someone there to comfort him, a soothing hand on his forehead, telling him everything was going to be okay, or even the gentle touch of a child’s fingertips poking at his side, asking him to get up and go play. A sickening thought crept into his head and he had to bury as soon as it surfaced. It couldn’t be possible… they used the visor on him; he should have been fully healed. He didn’t have time for this, not now, not ever. Never again, time would not take the life from him. “FUCK!” he shouted, and pounded his fists against the wall. Deep within the center of the F.E.C. facility, Benjamin, alone with his thoughts began to slowly pull himself together. He knew that he had a obligation to fulfill as leader of the Messengers, and that was to get his companions out of danger and back to safety as soon as possible. As long as he could stand, he was going to fight, whether it be against the F.E.C. or against his own sickness, he wasn’t willing to give in just yet. Thomas would have to be dealt with later, this was neither the time or place for diving into emotions and feelings. It was very possible that this base could be the tomb for all of them, and he knew that it was up to him to find a way out. Benjamin shut everything away and went about continuing his search.

Finally getting his strength back, Benjamin found himself near the end of a corridor and his eyes drifted to a line of doors that dotted the hallway, all shut up tight and locked, except for one. Slowly he approached it and his eyes widened , seeing a trail of blood leading out of the door and further down the hall in wide smeared lines. Making his way over to the door, he bent down and swirled his fingers in a perfectly round droplet of blood at his feet, they came away red and sticky, it was fresh. Glancing up to the door, he saw that the light in front of the keypad was glowing bright green, it was unlocked. His better judgment told him to just leave it and go, urgency was important here, he had to find a way out, but there was something in the back of his mind that wouldn’t let it go, he had to go in that room. Taking a breath, he stepped forward and the door slid open to the dark room beyond. He could just barely see the dim glow of some multicolored lights of electronic devices blinking and scattered across the floor. Moving further into the room, his eyes adjusted to the light and he took in the gruesome sight before him. There was a metal gurney in the center of the room, toppled over and streaked with large sections of blood stains in a smeared pattern that gave evidence that the poor hapless soul who had previously been laying on it had been viciously dragged off and thrown onto the floor, where the stains continued. There was loads of medical equipment here, each device finely tuned for the sole purpose of monitoring each minute impulse from the patient on the bed, however, they had all been trashed. The display screens were cracked, control panels were kicked in, wires and tubes were littering the floor everywhere. Ben took a step and his foot kicked over a toppled crash cart that had spilled it’s contents. He knelt down and picked up a empty syringe and held it up to the light. A few drops of a mysteriously swirling amber colored liquid sloshed around inside, that gave him the chills. Tossing the needle aside, something shiny underneath the bed caught his attention. Pushing the gurney back into a upright position, he bent down and reached underneath it and pulled out a exquisitely sharp surgeon’s scalpel. What should have been a gleaming silver medical instrument was saturated and soaked with blood, bent and twisted near the handle. Ben stood up, clutching it tightly in his hand, not being able to let it go. There was something vaguely familiar about the blood that covered the scalpel. Ben stared at it, confused. How could he know that? Shaking his head, he quickly dropped it down to the floor, where it clattered and echoed loudly. Realizing his hands were now covered in blood, he looked around and found a discarded piece of fabric draped over a chair and started to wipe his hands clean with it. The black material absorbed the fresh blood easily and felt unusually soft in his hands. As he pulled it across the palms of his hands, he saw something sewn onto it. Curious, unraveled it and discovered a highly detailed and embroidered patch on the side. Running his fingers over it for a moment, he quickly took the material and fluffed it out, revealing that it was not some random piece of discarded material, but a simple, plain black button down shirt, and the blood from his hands was not the only stains on it. “What the fuck!” Dropping it back down onto the floor, he walked over to the desk and then found a matching black cadet hat, with another patch sewn onto it. He narrowed his eyes. “What the hell is going on here?” Throwing the hat aside, he searched the desk for any evidence of who the person was that had been strapped down to the table, but there was nothing at all, the computers had all been trashed, there were no notes, nothing except…

Ben’s fingers curled around a pair of black plastic framed glasses he found discarded on the desk. One of the lenses had been shattered, and as he held them tightly, his hand started to shake. The familiar pain shot through his chest again, like a arrow straight through his heart and he almost toppled over, grabbing the stretcher at the last moment for support. His fingers instantly went numb and the glasses toppled out of his hand and down onto the floor, cracking what little of the glass that was left in the frames into a hundred pieces. Wincing, Ben clutched onto the metal railing, hunched over as he was wracked with spasms of intense pain, radiating out from the center of his body and moving into the extremities. His knuckles turned white as he willed himself to stand there and take every bit of agony in, there was no way that he would let this bring him to his knees. He would not bow, he refused to break. Letting out a loud scream of despair, he pushed himself back up and kicked at the crash cart on the floor. It skidded out of the way and slammed into the wall with a loud thud before coming to rest.

Storming out of the room, Ben once again shoved the pain back down, sealing it away deep inside of himself until he knew that he could deal with it. He decided to follow the trail of blood down the hall; he just had to know what when on in that room and if the person who had escaped was still alive. It was almost as if something was drawing him forward, putting his feet on a specific path to be followed, however, his hopes were quickly crushed. Coming to an intersection near a dimly lit corridor, Benjamin found a large amount of blood pooled up on the floor, but then nothing else. It was as if the injured person simply vanished. No footprints or sign of what direction they went off in. Benjamin lowered his head for a moment, pinching the bridge of his nose letting out a quiet sigh of discontentment. Deciding that he would head down the shadowy corridor on the right, he said a silent prayer that he would either find the injured person, or a way out of the base, he didn’t know when another occurrence of the sickness would hit him again, and he had to keep moving.

Walking past several locked doors, all electronically sealed, Benjamin found himself in a secluded area of the base that the stench of rot seemed to linger heavily in the air. Pulling the front of his shirt up over his nose and mouth, he drew his weapon and started to walk forward. The lighting system in this area was malfunctioning, flashing off and on in brief spurts of illumination, making it difficult to see. As he moved forward, the odor of decay started to grow stronger, and Ben found that every so often his feet would bump into something on the floor, impeding his progress. He stood still for a moment, waiting for the light to flash on and then knelt down to see what he had been tripping over. The electronic buzz of the florescent light filled his ears as it flicked on temporarily and Ben let out a shocked cry. There on the floor in front of him was the severed head of a Carnivore, along with various other body parts which littered the path ahead of him. Shreds of black fabric were thrown everywhere, mixing with the corpses of the vicious monsters that once wore them. There was blood splattered all over the walls from ceiling to floor, dripping down and making the floor slick and wet. Ben’s eyes were wide with the horror as he took it all in, almost reflecting the same level of terror on the severed heads that rolled across the room as he moved forward. He realized this is why there were no Carnivore patrols in the area, someone had come into the staging area and slaughtered them all. The wounds had not been inflicted by a gun of any sort, but there were large, deep gashes that were the tell tale sign that the psychopath had been wielding a antique sword.

For a moment, Ben considered going back and gathering up his friends. It would be safer to travel in a group; he felt a bit of remorse for leaving them behind, but Lizzie was in no shape to travel yet. A decision had to be made, and he made it. Now, seeing the carnage before him, he decided that it was best to keep moving forward, trusting in the fact that if the lunatic attacked them, Thomas would be clever and brave enough to deal with it. Ben had trained him, himself and only hoped that the lessons stuck. Brock could hold his own in a fight, but not much more, being more of a technical person than a physical one. Ben sighed to himself. Thomas, it all came down to Thomas. Was he wrong to trust him? Should he turn back now? They all could be in danger. Looking over his shoulder, Ben considered his decision and then was startled by the sound of someone singing from further down the hall.

The lights suddenly went out and Ben stood completely still, listening intently to the voice from the darkness.

And who are you, the proud lord said,  
that I must bow so low?  
Only a cat of a different coat,  
that's all the truth I know.  
In a coat of gold or a coat of red,  
a lion still has claws 

He knew that voice. He had heard it many times before down in his solitary cell, blind and alone. It was the voice of a young man who haunted his dreams, became part of his feverish nightmare and stripped him of all confidence he had. There was something in the tone, something in the infliction and way he formed his words that truly frightened him. The person that the voice belong to would often sit outside of Ben’s door for long periods of time, either in complete silence, or sometimes singing softly to himself, almost as if waiting for Ben to call out for mercy or to be released. There were days where he could hear him come down to the corridor and have another hapless soul out from their confinement, slinging him against the door to Ben’s cell with a loud bang. Then the screams would start. There would be a thumping against the door with such force that the very walls of his cell shook, and the door rattled as the screams got louder and louder. He could hear laughing, insane, psychopathic laughing. Then after a few minutes it would be all over. A soft thud would be heard as the lifeless corpse of his fellow captive fell to the floor. It was at moments like this when Ben had been truly grateful for his blindness.

My claws are long and sharp, my lord,  
as long and sharp as yours . . .  
But now the rains weep o'er his hall,  
with no one there to hear.  
Now the rains weep though his hall,  
and not a soul to hear  
….and not a soul to hear  
………not a soul………

The eerie singing stopped as the overhead lighting flicked on for a moment, and Ben’s eyes focused on the figure now standing at the end of the hallway. Standing there before him was the vision from his nightmare, a demon in the flesh, bare-chested and covered in blood. His hair was matted and thick, dripping with a mixture of sweat and gore that ran down over his face and flowed down his neck and chest. He wore tight leather pants, belted at the waist, and the thigh and just above the knee as well, giving way to imposing combat boots. In his left hand, he clutched a sword tightly, which he dragged behind him, sending a shrill, grating metal sound on the concrete floor. There was a deep gash on the right side of his body, oozing blood where he had been recently wounded, but he paid it no mind as he walked onward closer and closer.

Lingering a few feet away, he lifted his gaze from the carnage on the floor, up to Ben and fixed those infamous gray-green amber specked irises on him. The dried blood caked on his lips cracked as he smiled a obscenely vicious smile and lifted the sword.

“Would you like to see how sharp this lion’s claws are, Father?” The lights at the end of the hall flickered one last time, then went out. Darkness descended on Benjamin.


End file.
